Trowa's Struggle
by Wings of Wax
Summary: One-shot. 999 words. After the war is over, Trowa doesn't know what to do with himself any longer. And what if his one love rejects him? How will it all end?


"Cathy?" the whisper was so faint. Trowa looked up to the brilliant sun, it's pure rays burning his eyes. He did not squint. One step. One step was all it would take.

"T-Trowa!" Catherine flinched away from the man, her hand pressing to his chest. "What are you doing? Stop!" She stood up, taking several steps back. He stared up at her, confused. Her face was one of pure horror.

"Cathy… I love you…" Trowa's whisper was not processed in her mind.

"What do you mean, Trowa?" Catherine's voice shook. She was trembling. "You're my baby brother, Trowa!" She turned away from him. She couldn't look at him. This was wrong!

"I'm sorry...." Trowa stood and moved for the door. He looked back at her one last time before casting his face down. He opened the door to the trailer and left. She did not feel the same. He'd known taking this leap would be dangerous. The rocks at the bottom of this cliff had caught him. He ran out of the door.

The jeep was waiting with keys in it. He'd taken the precaution. She would never look at him the same, and he would make sure she never had to. He would never make her feel guilty, never make her look at the face of the brother who loved her more than just as his sister. Had it been so wrong? No… She wasn't really his sister. He'd remembered that eventually. She'd lost her little brother when she was younger, but the age difference… it didn't fit, and Trowa had put two and two together. He had hoped that she'd done the same by now. She didn't want to believe that he wasn't really her younger brother, though, did she? Catherine wanted the lie, wanted to think she'd really found the little baby once so long ago abandoned. Trowa was unsure of his true age, sure, but the difference in years between himself and Catherine was not a great as she made it out to be. He was only fifteen in her eyes, and she twenty. He felt older… so much older. Looked older, as well.

The afternoon was hot. Trowa contemplated this for a moment- but the thought would not stay. The hurt expression on Catherine's face was all he could see. She'd been disgusted, too. That horrified look that told him she could never love him the way he loved her. The times he'd held her in his arms meant nothing more to her than simple hugs from a child. The tears would not stop as they brimmed over his eyes. He continued driving, perhaps too fast, perhaps not. They were on Earth for the first time in a long while. The desert terrain had been perfect, wide and flat, and large enough for the animals to have a decent roaming area. The cliffs weren't very far, either, and the entire crew had been warned to stay away from them. Trowa had been out to see them twice now. This would be the last time.

He stopped the jeep. He got out of it. He walked to the edge. It was a long way down. Trowa looked down at the sharp rocks and small sprigs of life striving to survive in the dirt. He only saw any of it for a few seconds. His thoughts had to return to Catherine. His beautiful Catherine. She'd cared for him so tenderly during his spell of amnesia, like a mother would her child. He resented her for that. She was not his mother! His fists curled into balls at his sides. He'd never worked up the courage to fight with her about the matter, and to what purpose? That time had passed. Trowa relaxed once more. Since he'd finally come back to her and hadn't run off again, she'd acted more like a friend than an overbearing sister. He'd tried to work up the nerve to tell her he loved her for weeks, and now that he had, his efforts had been for nothing. Trowa looked up to the brilliant sun, it's pure rays burning his eyes. He did not squint. One step. One step was all it would take.

Could he do this, though? Would he rather force her to suffer his suicide or his lust for her? He was leaning more towards suicide. She would recover more quickly from suicide than his continuous looks of lust after her. She was lithe and thin and beautiful. He wanted her every way he could have her, but she didn't understand. He could never have her. He knew himself too well. He always took what he wanted in the end. And eventually, he would take her too. It could be years or weeks or days. He didn't know how long he would be able to control himself.

Trowa knew the answer. He couldn't control himself for long. He'd never been able to do so. Catherine would be safer if he killed himself. If he lived, he would never be able to stay away from her, and that would worsen the situation. He saw no other alternative. He would never pilot his Heavyarms again, would never fight a war again, and would not make Catherine suffer any more than she had to.

Trowa inched toward the ledge. He almost fancied she was calling out his name. His eyes were blinded by the sun. He spread his arms. "I love you more than either of us can bear." With the sun and the image of Cathy's sweet face the last things his mind saw, he fell forward. Gravity took care of him, nestled him in her grip until he collided with the hard earth below. Death had come for him, with regret for the murders of all of those people during the war, as well as his intense and never-ending love for his dear sister. This lasting moment propelled him forward into the black abyss that awaited people such as himself.

A/N: Story length: 999 words. Sometimes peace can drive a man crazy.


End file.
